是啊，咱们这世道，谈情说爱，多的是！

Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!

我不想问：真有爱这回事吗？有就有吧——

I will not gainsay love, called love forsooth:

从小，我就听惯了人们嘴里的“爱”，

I have heard love talked in my early youth,

直到才不久——那会儿采来的鲜花

And since, not so long back but that the flowers

香味还没散呢。不管是回教徒、“外教徒”，

Then gathered, smell still.  Mussulmans and Giaours

笑一笑，手绢儿就摔过来；可是一哭，

Throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruth

谁也不理了。“独眼龙”的白牙齿咬不紧

For any weeping.  Polypheme’s white tooth

硬果子，假使淋过了几阵骤雨，

Slips on the nut if, after frequent showers,

果壳变得滑溜溜——从没想把这称做

The shell is over-smooth,—and not so much

“爱”的东西，也跟他们的“恨”、以至

Will turn the thing called love, aside to hate

跟“淡漠”并列。可是你，亲爱的，你不是

Or else to oblivion.  But thou art not such

那样的情人！你从那哀怨和疾病里

A lover, my Belovëd! thou canst wait

伺候了过来，教心灵终于接通了心灵，

Through sorrow and sickness, to bring souls to touch,

人家会嫌“太晚”了，而你想还没想到。

And think it soon when others cry “Too late.”